


I will heal (Your Heart will too)

by ziallmalira1dtw



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt Clarke, Protective Bellamy, brainwashed Clarke, forgiving Octavia, hurt Octavia, leader Octavia, strong clarke, strong octavia, supporting brother, supportive bellamy, tortured! Clarke, tortured! Octavia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziallmalira1dtw/pseuds/ziallmalira1dtw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke was taken by the mountainers, Octavia vowed that she would bring her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will heal (Your Heart will too)

It was supposed to be an easy trip. A trip to the mountain, sign a peace treaty. That’s all. Civilized. Safe. Clarke wasn’t needed to be there at all -- She was there to aid the wounded, just in case. (Well, she volunteered to after seeing Octavia’s name on the list)

 

_The first shot echoed in the silent room.There was a thud of a crumpled body, and all hell broke loose.  And chaos erupted. People screaming, bullets ricketing to and fro the room._

_“CLARKE!”  Octavia bellowed. There she was, grime in her dirty blonde curls, unhurt, fighting two men at the same time. She punched a man in the jaw and broke his nose with a elbow blow. She didn’t notice the other man behind her - a fist to the back of her head, and she was out like a light. Octavia tried to fight through the mass of bodies, to reach her, to reach her princess, but somebody held her back. Bellamy’s grip was like steel, forcing her to stay where she was, his voice grim and determined, “Oct, go. It’s not safe. Let the more experienced warriors find her.” With that, he steered her into Lincoln’s arms, and told him to keep her safe._

_The last thing she saw was the whisp of dirty blonde hair dragged across the bloody room, Octavia’s name still lingering at her lips._

 

59 strokes. 59 days since Clarke was taken by the mountain people. 59 days since Octavia was dragged back to the camp with a blank look. 59 days of being literally force fed by her brother. 59 nights of torment, without strong arms that ward off the nightmares.

 

Her eyes, as blue as the sky Octavia had seen when she had first stepped onto Earth.  Filled with light and joy, staring at her with absolute adoration.

 

Octavia stood up and strode towards the exit of the campsite. Once the brunettes sets her mind into doing something, there would be nothing that can stop her.

She’s going to find Clarke, and nobody is going to stop her.

 

The trip to the mountain was easy. Octavia had the path etched into her brain, haunting her dreams every night. She crept past a few guards, disabling one by knocking him out. A guard spotted her, “TRESPASSER!” he cried,and a knife came flying her way. She dodged and it hit her shoulder instead of her head, warm liquid seeping instantly. Suddenly red lights flashed throughout the corridor, sirens blaring. “Shit,” she cursed. Hurrying her footsteps, she dived into a room and closed the door, barely escaping from the grab of a muscular guard.

 

There she was, lying on the ground, blinking herself slowly back to consciousness. Octavia’s eyes scanned Clarke’s body, a few bruises littered here or there, a wide gash on her forearm, but relatively unscathed.  

 

“O?” Clarke murmured, “Are you here?” Octavia could hardly reply, blinking away tears of happiness and euphoria. “Yes, you’re safe now, I’ll bring you back to the camp alright?” Clarke nodded slightly and struggled to stand upright, but her knees buckled and she collapsed into Octavia’s arms. Octavia grunted in the effort to lift the blonde onto her back -- hell, her shoulder’s on fire.

 

Staggering, Octavia carried her friend through the dark and bleak corridor and out the mountain site. It wasn’t until she was 10 metres away from her campsite that she began to wonder, “Where were the guards?”

 

(Perhaps the Gods were really watching over her)

 

She stumbled into her tent, collapsing onto her bed. She set Clarke onto it carefully, clumsily wrapping a bandage around her arm. Clarke moved fitfully in her sleep, and Octavia ran her fingers through the dirty blonde curls, soothing her back into sleep. It wasn’t until Clarke’s chest moved regularly, up and down, peaceful, that the adrenaline left Octavia’s body.

 

A stabbing pain racked through Octavia’s body. She had forgotten about the knife, still lodged deep into her flesh. Shutting her eyes, she grabbed the knife and yanked -- it was out now, red hot crimson liquid spurting everywhere. Black spots swum around her vision, and finally she succumb to exhaustion, to the welcoming arms of darkness.

 

The first thing Octavia register when she woke up was how bright her tent was. And how stiff her shoulder was. She blinked for a few times, adjusting to the light. Her shoulder had a clean and white bandage around the cut. Her eyes light up. Clarke was awake! She whipped her head towards her bed, but then her eyes caught hold to a small note on her bedside table.

 

Scared me shitless when I saw you lying in that awful pool of blood, Oct

Don’t you dare scare me like that again

p.s. I see that you’ve found our healer ;)

Bell.

 

Her brother. Of course. Who would go into her tent creepily at the wee hours in the morning and bandage her up? She rose from her chair and walked to get some water from the lake. A scream from the inside of the tent made her freeze in her spot.

 

“NO!!!!!” Clarke screamed, jerking awake from her slumber. “NONONONONONO, IT’S NOT HER, NOT HER!!!” Her hands gripped the blankets so tightly that the knuckles flashed white. “SHE DID NOT” Silently tears were running on Clarke’s face, tensed with fear and pain.

 

With a single stride, Octavia was by her side in a flash, her hands gripping onto Clarke’s, her heart racing. Clarke rarely had nightmares, she thought. She wiped away a bead of sweat on Clarke’s eyebrow, and stroke her cheek. “Clarke? Do you hear me? You’re okay now, you’re with me, you’re not…”

 

Clarke’s eyes flew open, wide with panic. Her lively blue was now replaced by the soulless, bottomless black.

 

“DO NOT TOUCH ME!” Clarke flung Octavia’s hand from her skin. Hurt, Octavia withdrew her hand and whispered, “Clarke, it’s me, it’s Octavia, you’re not in the…”

And suddenly Octavia was thrown across the room, her body hurtling into the wall. Her skull cracked against the wall, and for a moment all she could see was black spots, the room spiralling into darkness. Just before she was pulled into darkness, she saw Clarke’s eyes glaring at her. Unforgiving, ruthless, bitter, filled with fury.

 

Not the pair that was filled with determination, laughter and love.

 

The second time Octavia was awake after the ordeal, Clarke was pacing around the tent, muttering to herself. Octavia felt a bump in the back of head, and she couldn’t get up. Concussion? Maybe. She propped herself up on the wall, and suddenly Clarke was there.

 

“YOU TRAITOR, YOU SOLD ME TO THE MOUNTAINERS!” Clarke spat bitterly at her. Octavia tried to tell her, no, she didn’t, there must be some kind of mistake… Clarke kicked at her torso, punching her arms, her body, everywhere. Her eyes were lit with the mad glint, black, like a bottomless pit. Octavia protested, tried to move out of Clarke’s way, tried to call for help, but she couldn’t yell she couldn’t speak she couldn’t freaking breathe. Bruises bloomed after every blow.

 

_“Tell your friends that if they want to have their healer back, surrender to my rule!”_

_“NEVER”_

_“You’re going to regret this, you stubborn piece of crap”_

_“OH REALLY?” Clarke glared up at the guard, a look of defiance on her features._

_“oh, of course, let’s try this the hard way.”_

_Kicks, stomps, punches, slaps._

_But Clarke would not tell her people to do this for her. These mountainers were total nutjobs, there was no way they could live under his reign._

_“200 volts”_

_Strapped onto a piece of metal, Clarke yelled, an anguish sound erupting from her lungs._

 

Clarke stomped onto Octavia’s broken body, making the brunette shudder, gasping for breath. She slapped her on the cheek until her palms burn and stings. Octavia was lying senseless on the ground, body curled into a fetal position, face pale from blood loss.

 

_“Do you know who landed you here? That brunette, what’s her name.. Octavia, right?”_

_“NO… SHE WOULD NE..VER.. DO THIS… TO ME!” Clarke spoke._

_“Oh yes she did, she did this to save herself. 500 Volts”_

_“noooooooooooo” Clarke wheezed._

 

Clarke’s foot hammered into Octavia’s ribs, her body jerking to the blows, her screams tearing from her dried throat. The droplets of blood came out from Octavia as she coughed and retched weakly, her skin sickly pale, her breathing shallow.

 

_“She turned you in, saying that you are the most worthless out of all the people in her campsite. She even signed this. 1000 volts!” the guard waved a document in front of her._

_“no, O will not..” Clarke slumped forward, senseless and limp._

_The next time she opened her eyes, it was fathomless and dark._

 

“I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME, OR AT LEAST LIKED ME! BUT YOU JUST THREW ME TO THEM AS IF I WAS WORTHLESS!” The hammer smashed into Octavia’s joints. Two thin trails of tears slid downwards on her muddy face. Her body was on fire, and all she wanted is to give up, to stop fighting, to let death take her. She forced her eyes opened, she wanted to see the world, she wanted to see Clarke, before she was gone forever. Her wish was granted  immediately. Clarke’s face was right above her, smiling sickenly, holding a cruel sharp knife.

 

“T...R...I...A...T...O...R…”Clarke carved these letters onto Octavia’s arm. Blood was everywhere, painting her red, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, sobs escaping through her mouth. Octavia could feel the world spinning to a stop, and she knew that her end was near. She raised a hand to touch her love’s cheek for one last time, and she felt the last bit of strength leave her body, and she let her hand thud to the ground.

Before she slipped away into darkness, she saw that the blonde’s eyes was shifting. Half black, half blue.

 

(Was she merely imagining it?)

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sobs racked her body. Clarke had thought that Octavia liked her. Loved her even. But turned out that she had just fallen in the trap of hers. She cried and cried, moaning in self pity.  She sat huddled in the corner, her hands on her temple, trying to block the pain, the shock, from her flashback. Her breath hitched and she looked around. She was in the campsite, safe, not in the mountain. Safe. Not in the mountain. Her eyes landed onto the crumpled form of her friend.

 

Her eyes widened, her hands covered her mouth. She had done this to her friend. She was a monster. What had she done? Her heart raced in her chest, no, this isn’t happening, no, not Octavia. Octavia was lying sprawled on the ground, unmoving, limp, a pool of blood around her. Clarke stumbled in haste to get to her friend. She grabbed hold of Octavia’s cold hands, squeezing it, hoping to get some reaction. Nothing. She stroked her icy cheeks, willing for response. Clarke’s heart began to race erratically. No. She placed her ear onto Octavia’s chest, for the heartbeat that had lulled her to sleep many nights ago. Nothing. Tears poured down Clarke’s cheeks. Clarke cradled Octavia’s head, pulling her onto her lap. She stroked Octavia’s matted-with-blood hair, talking to her, hoping that she will wake up.

 

“Hey…O… I know you probably hate me now, but please can you wake up? I don’t care if you will walk out of my life forever, strike me, spurn me, neglect me, but… please, wake up” She was sobbing again, her head buried into Octavia’s chest. “I am so sorry O, but don’t leave me alone…Wake up for me, for Bell, for all those who love you” She stood up, and began to fetch some bandages and ointment.

 

Slowly, Clarke applied the ointment onto every bruise and wound, applying the dressing and the bandages, fixing the dislocated joint. Blue and purple blots littered the dark skin, but god, Octavia was beautiful. She could feel another flashback coming, and she tried so hard to restrain herself from attacking her broken friend again, her nails tight in her palms.

 

“Cl…” Octavia whimpered, and the blonde’s alertness grew sharply, her eyes whipping towards the girl. Honey caramel met sky-blue. Clarke wrapped her arms around the brunette, her ears finding a faint, but steady heartbeat.  “I am so sorry O, but you’re okay, thank god, you’re okay,” Clarke was full on crying now but she didn’t care, wiping furiously at her eyes, she could see that Octavia was still clearly in pain, but alive, and she couldn’t stop a grin creeping on her face.  

 

“Clarke, I’m sorry…for… leaving you…” Octavia was still trying to talk, a cough stopping her, and Clarke shushed her, helping her gulp down some water. “O, you should rest now, we can talk later, and I am so goddamn sorry, I’m a horrible person, and you should hate me…”

 

“No, you… were not… yourself,” Octavia struggled to sit up, but was pressed down by Clarke, “You’re hurt, don’t strain yourself, lie back down O” but Octavia, being the stubborn warrior girl she was, shook her head weakly and after a few heaves and pants, she was propped against the wall, facing Clarke.

 

“Do you need anything? More water? Or some pain meds?” The healer side of Clarke took charge and scanned Octavia’s body for any wounds needing attention. Octavia laughed a short breathy laugh, “Relax, princess, I’m alright. Hey. Look at me. I don’t blame you okay, you were not… yourself, and I don’t hate you at all. I love you, Clarke, don’t you see it?” Octavia stared earnestly into the sky-blue eyes she had fell for, and Clarke nodded slightly, a thin trail of tears leaking on her face again.

 

“Babe don’t cry, I’m okay, alright?” And Octavia raised her arm to wipe away Clarke’s tears, causing her bandages to stain red again, but she didn’t care. Clarke was okay, she was safe from the mountainers, she was with her, they were together.  She felt her head began to droop, the week’s toll beginning to catch up on her, exhaustion coming like waves, and she fell asleep in the blonde’s arms.

(It was the best night she had had for ages, no nightmares, only Clarke’s comforting heat and arms, protecting her)

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Slowly, they both began to heal. Octavia had a slight limp now, and everytime Clarke’s eyes fell on her leg, she would tense up and look away. The scar didn’t fade completely, and Clarke had kissed each angry red line tenderly when Octavia had nightmares.

 

Their hands found each other without question as they walked out of the tent flap.

“Together?”  
“Together.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic. It means so much to me :D  
> Review kudos anything will do hahaha  
> Talk Clarktavia to me @ http://believe-in-the-light.tumblr.com/


End file.
